asgardeventide | 001 // voice. day 399.

[ Contary to popular belief, not all of her reminders are sudsy faux pas at raising morale by glossing over the near-imminent end of days with errant chore routines and rehearsed domesticity for the sake of her team, but swapping one apocalypse for another version of the Armageddeon was enough to induce internal hemorrhaging on both accounts (granted, if a certain Assassin hadn't already beat them to the punch). Ascended Fridge Horror was an eternal trope in her line of business.

But Stillman remains composed in her attempt to infuse some vestige of credibility into her message. Professionalism didn't cut slack for even post-mortem workaholics. ]

Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Lucy. I'm a ... researcher. In light of everything that's occurred recently, I believe it's high time that I become acquainted with you all, if only to extend my support in our shared endeavors. I'll do what I can to help.

That being said: would anyone like self-defense lessons? I realize it's not that much to offer, but if anyone needs a sparring partner, I'm capable of handling firearms, blades, blunt weapons, and hand-to-hand combat. I wouldn't be against polishing my technique with your assistance, either. Payment isn't necessary, but I do have a preference for fixed appointments. Let me know if you're interested and we'll hammer out the rest of the details together. [ There's a nearly pedestrian, lilting pause as she invokes the real intent behind using the network system to contact the general public in the first place. ]

I understand that, for better or worse, we were chosen and forcibly brought to Asgard. But the extenuating reasons behind that decision — whether it's by chance or through ulterior motives — are completely beyond me. I take it some people have had quite a long stay here, and others, like myself, have only recently arrived, but it seems we all share an equal opportunity to leave. The thing is? It isn't on our terms. Only random selection at any given time of day.

I'm open to all possible theories you might have concerning any Traveler's sudden departure, however.

And while I'm at it, is there anyone out there who's returned to Asgard from their original world on more than one occassion? If so, I'd like to ask a few general questions about the experiences in each iteration. Nothing major. [ A beat. ]

Thank you for your time. I genuinely appreciate it.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[That's the life of an Assassin, though. Sacrifice for the greater good, and lose so much along the way. It was never meant to be easy.]

They do. For example, Freya has energy transfer or charm, whereas Thor carries strength or speed. Each person is placed in a house according to who they are as a person, I believe.

[In talking with Desmond, Ezio has learned about Lucy, and what she has done. And, based on what he has seen in being told, knows where she stands. Actions speak far louder than words, and if he knows anything from what he's seen- Lucy made her choice long before she died. Ezio has no intention of changing that.]

No, I chose to talk to you because I wanted to.

[It is said gently, without pause, not as if he's brushing her question off, but to ease her tension or any kind of problems they may have in the future. He knows, if anything, the most difficult thing is that they will always be on different sidelines, no matter how much they may agree on.]

However, if you would rather I not, simply speak, and I will be on my way.

[He will not cause grief or anger if he is not wanted. He's learned far too many times in being here that what he knows in his time is not the same for every other time, and has learned from that as a result.]

[ The real kicker behind her artifice was her honesty, a diorama of earnest intentions coming to an impasse at incorruptibility. She was afraid of the backlash even while hurtling farther still into immorality, every addendum for remorse caught between the teeth. Lucy Stillman was an invention of preoccupied darkness, all the lights blown out, steeled over in the only kind of isolation she'd ever truly known (consumed by dystopia). To see things for what they were, instead of what they should've been; the wretched desire for order in a world where it was so easy to slur blind faith and depravity and call it the will of the pious and the godless.

She believed the Assassins, once, and was all the worse for it. ]

I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that.

[ But whether that was from turning away from them in the zenith of their final hour or attributed to her own faults and failings was uncertain; and it didn't mean anything, in retrospect, to the dead certainty of his answer.

He sounded so sincere. ]

I have to apologize for jumping to that conclusion. It's just been ... difficult for me to trust people. For a long time now.

[ A pause, stagnant and heavy with things unsaid. ]

Was there any reason in particular you wanted to speak with me? Or were you genuinely interested in what I had to say?

I do not doubt it has.

[Not chiding, but understanding, in a sense. It had been difficult for him to trust after losing half his family, save for his mother and sister. It is still not the same, and he will not try to say it is, either. That will only open room for a battleground.]

I wanted to hear what you had to say, with no influence from myself or what you may know. ["Know of me" is left unsaid, but he's certain she doesn't need for him to say it anyway.] Were you able to speak your mind, even though you knew who I was?

001 // voice. day 399.

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